Nyctophobia
by Fangirlandtheories
Summary: The real reason why Ezekiel was so keen to leave Jenkins and the others when the Library was dying. Trigger Warning: Panic Attacks


Nyctophobia:

 **A/N: I was also requested for this short story by an anon and people seemed really excited about it so I wanted to work on it while I had some time to kill. As always, I hope you guys enjoy and if you do leave me an awesome review telling me what you want me to write next.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights go to TNT and the writers of the Librarians. Trigger Warning for panic attacks.**

One by one, the lights in the Annex were going out slowly. They had thought that the ghost lights would work, at least for a little while, but apparently not for as long as they had hoped. The Library was dying and there was nothing that could be done about it. Ezekiel and the others, including Jake, Cassandra, and Jenkins, stood amongst a lit circle of lamps in the middle of the Annex.

"You all need to leave. When the library dies it will latch onto the oldest soul in the room I am the oldest and semi immortal, I have lived much longer than any of you. I would sacrifice my life to save three." He told them very carefully.

"What? Are you crazy? We're not going to leave you." Jake said in a way that suggested that the mere idea was preposterous.

"I might take him up on that offer." Ezekiel's statement had earned him a double glare from Cassandra and Jake. Suddenly one of the five lights that they had around them went out with a pop, causing Ezekiel to jump. He hoped the others didn't notice.

"Fine. Go run off like you always do." Jake told him. There was suddenly a clear tension in the air as another light popped out.

"Don't act like you know me, mate. You haven't ever given me the chance to prove myself. I have never ran off during a mission." Ezekiel spat at him. What the others didn't know about him was that he didn't want to leave to save himself. Another light went went out with a crack. Ezekiel felt his heart leap into his throat. There would be no way to avoid it. Pop! Out went the one light. Only one remained. His chest tightened and he could feel his heart beating, faster and faster. The last light went out with a pop that silenced everyone. The Annex plunged into the darkness. That was why he wanted to leave so badly. He was a nyctophobic. In basic terms, Ezekiel Jones, the asshole with a sarcastic attitude, was afraid of the dark. Not exactly something the twenty year old man wanted to let his comrades know. They'd never let him live it down. Most children grow out of being scared of the dark, but he never really got over it. Mainly because he didn't have what other kids did. Other kids could run to their parents for comfort and protection from the invisible monsters that lurked the darkness. As in orphan, you don't exactly get that sort of relief. Not to mention the fact that his monsters weren't invisible. In the dark, the older kids got away with beating him until he was unconscious, but he never knew when to expect it so he spent every night living in fear, hardly getting any sleep. He assumed that his mind associated the fear of being beaten to death with the dark and that was why he was scared.

As he stared into the pitch black abyss he tried everything he could to calm himself down. Just because he was scared, that didn't mean that he hadn't tried to conquer it. He did all of that breathing crap that his therapist had suggested. Nothing was working. He could feel his hands and legs trembling with each step he took. He didn't know where anything was so it was more of a blind stumble than it was walking. He felt like he needed to escape but he was trapped in anything. His breathing became louder, harder. He felt dizzy and he could feel himself losing grip on reality a bit. He knew he was overreacting but he had no way to control himself. His body felt numb, with the rare hot or cold flash. He felt like he was choking but he knew it wasn't possible. He was still breathing, if that's what you want to call it. He was more hyperventilating than anything. He could feel himself anticipate being hit, kicked, beaten in any way, even though he had been out of that situation for almost eight years. His stomach felt nauseous as his eyes filled with tears. Suddenly a hand reached out and took a hold of his shoulder. That was when he truly broke down.

He had sort of collapsed into a ball when the light returned. His body was visibly trembling, Cassandra had noticed as she took a hold his hand. She had been the one to to grab his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. She heard what he was going through. The sharp intakes of breath. She spent enough time in a hospital to recognize a panic attack.

"Ezekiel you have to breathe. Tell me what's going on." Cassandra told him calmly. The others watched cautiously, not knowing what to do.

"Headache." He took a big gasp of air. "Dry mouth." Another gasp. "Ringing in my ears." He gasped again, as tears streaked down his face. He hated being that way in front of them. She took him gently by the hand and led him to a quiet corner in the Library's kitchen. She went over what psychiatrists normally did in situations similar to hers in her head. She remembered that they would have the person sit down until their breathing was slightly more controlled before they had the person do a random task to keep their minds off of everything. She sat him down and went to the sink and filled a glass with water. She also wet a washcloth. She set the glass in front of him and dabbed his forehead with the washcloth.

"In through the nose, out through the mouth. Like you're trying to blow up a balloon. Can you do that for me?" She asked him. Together they breathed the way she had instructed him to do. As it steadied she coaxed him into taking small sips of water as she brushed her fingers through his hair with one hand. The other rubbed little circles into the palm of his empty, shaking hand.

"What's going on buddy?" She asked him gently.

"I'm scared of the dark. Laugh all you want. Everyone always does." He said quickly.

"You think I would laugh at you because you're afraid of something?" The others had come into the room now. "Ezekiel… I'm absolutely petrified of ravioli. Do you know how many Italian restaurants I've been thrown out of?" She looked towards the others for assistance.

"Y-Yeah. I'm terrified of people in costumes. I've never been able to go to Disneyland because of it." Jake supplied with a shrug.

"I guess what we're trying to say is that… we're all scared of things. That is no reason for us to laugh at you." Cassandra told the boy. He was visibly much calmer now, although his hands were still shaking and it looked like he was still having difficulty swallowing. When he didn't make eye contact with her, she turned to the others and gently shooed them away. "Hey, why don't we make some cookies?" He nodded lightly. Together they gathered up all the ingredients and began to bake, Ezekiel silent the whole time.

"Ezekiel, do you wanna tell me what was going on? Maybe why you had a full panic attack?" Cassandra asked him firmly but gently.

"When I was young… like really young. I think I was six when it had all began. I lived in this orphanage where the women running it could care less about never paid any attention to us, so at night, after they would turn off all of the lights and it would be pitch black, the older kids would come and beat me up until I passed out because I was the odd one out. Y'know, the Asian kid with the weird accent. Every night, like clockwork. Except I never knew when to expect it so I spent most nights awake in anxiety, just waiting. After I left that orphanage when I was twelve and came to America, I guess my mind associated the fear of being beaten to death with the fear of the dark." He whispered to her.

"Ezekiel… that is a perfectly understandable reason to be afraid. I would be too!" She told him as she hugged him from behind. They spent a moment like that in peace before the oven dinged and told them that the cookies were done. Cassandra watched as he pulled them out and placed them on the table, kicking the oven door shut in the process. He smiled at her as he iced them and threw some sprinkles on with a flair.

"I'm fine, Cassandra. I really am." He told her. He looked visibly calmer and his voice wasn't shaky anymore. His hands were completely steady, as a great thief's should be. She was glad to see him at ease once again. She knew that she couldn't expect life to be rainbows all the time, but she always expected him to remain himself, no matter what. That was the most important lesson for her that day. The luckiest people could have had the worst past.

 **A/N: I finally finished this one! I started this one yesterday but then I went out for Black Friday shopping. I had quite a lot of people waiting for this one. I hope as usual that you guys enjoyed it. I myself suffer from panic attacks so I know how this feels. If I was inaccurate for anything I apologize. I love you all more than pancakes! ~FGaT xoxoxoxoxox**


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